"I do NOT have an ugly truck!" Samantha Brown cried as her father pulled away from the school. The collection of motors running and horns blaring faded as they got farther away from the parking lot.
She turned into the truck seat and folded her arms.
"What's up?" Dad asked.
Samantha scowled. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay, then. Could you at least try to smile?"
"Humph. What do they know, anyway?"
Samantha's dad smiled. He knew she would start talking soon. This was how she typically reacted when she got angry.
"They all think they are such hot shots with their fancy SUV's. Well, we don't owe a dime on this truck."